


Chekhov's Gun

by TheBrightestNight



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Developing Fear Avatar, Don't copy to another site, Existentialism, Gen, Horror, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), The Usher Foundation, Transcript Format, the Vast - freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrightestNight/pseuds/TheBrightestNight
Summary: Statement of Michelle Li, regarding the disappearance of her father, Jay Wang, on September 20, 2011, while they were hiking in Colorado.
Kudos: 10





	Chekhov's Gun

**Author's Note:**

> creating an avatar oc at the last minute for a zine in _my_ me??? it's more likely than you think!
> 
> alkdjf I have no concept of exactly how long a statement should be but here's my first attempt at one! dive right in! ~~it's a joke, see~~

[TAPE CLICKS ON]

MICHELLE

You know, it's quite meaningless.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

What?

MICHELLE

…was just trying to make conversation. I guess. [ _pause_ ] Get used to talking into… [LOW TAPPING NOISES]

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

Oh, p-please don't—

MICHELLE

[ _overlapping_ ] …this mic. Sorry, sorry. It feels a little weird. Being recorded. We're in the same philosophy class. I don't know if you remember me but I recognize you. We were talking about the meaning of life today, remember?

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

[ _long pause_ ] Oh, right! No, I remember you. And the discussion today. You said your mandatory three comments. No offense, they weren't very memorable. You should've said what you just told me in class.

MICHELLE

It would've been too complicated to explain my reasoning in class. I didn't want to get into it. I hate group discussions.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

But you're in—

MICHELLE

It was the only class available and I needed the gen cred.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

[ _pause_ ] Is this relevant to your, um, statement?

MICHELLE

Yeah, a bit. I think it provides context. What's that writing term? Chekhov's Gun? The principle where, if you show a gun hanging on the wall in a scene in the first act, it should go off or be used in the second act? It's a bit like that.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

Cool, okay, let me make some notations for the recording, then. Statement of…

MICHELLE

LíMěiHào, last name, first. You can just call me Michelle. But for the record, Michelle Li.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

Statement of Michelle Li, regarding the disappearance of her father…

MICHELLE

WángJìnZhěng, last name, first again. His English name was Jay.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

Regarding the disappearance of her father, Jay Wang, on September 20, 2011, while they were hiking in Colorado. Statement recorded direct from subject February 4th, 2016. Statement begins.

MICHELLE

So, life is meaningless. The universe is so incredibly vast and cold. I don't believe in a higher power, nor do I think there is anything that has any sort of plan for myself, others, anything that currently exists in the universe. There's a term I learned in my high school AP Chem class and it's the existence of entropy—which is basically chaos. And the universe is constantly and consistently moving toward the state of entropy. You clean your room, by the end of the week, it's most likely not all that clean anymore. Now put that on a cosmic level. There is no plan. The plan _is_ entropy.

It very much reminds me of the ocean. A vast and powerful force that is utterly unpredictable. Calm one moment, a storm the next. Sneaker waves. Riptides. Which, fun fact, are the calmest part, if you're at the beach and looking out over the ocean. But that's a bit of a tangent.

I grew up in a landlocked state, Colorado, but I was always drawn to the ocean. I remember promising myself that when I was all grown-up that I would move to a seaside town, so I could live by the ocean and see it every day, any time I wanted. In the meantime, I read anything I could get my hands on that was about the ocean—large bodies of water, even. It wasn't limited to the ocean. I read about lakes from all over the world, too.

The lake I visited when I…lost my dad was Crater Lake, next to the Maroon Bell mountains. You wouldn't think mountains could be purple, but you'd be surprised just how wonderful and beautiful the natural world is. Anyway, my dad was an avid hiker, so of course, that meant I was, too. Still am, but I don't… [ _deep breath_ ] really have the time right now, I suppose.

Well, anyway, I say that because to get to Crater Lake, it's a fairly difficult hike to and from, with a pretty large altitude gain. I suppose that's why we lived where we did, at such a high altitude. Still, the altitude gain is nothing to sneeze at. Anyway, this hike to Crater Lake was a gift for my sixteenth birthday. It was arbitrary in my mind, but my dad had wanted me to wait 'til I was older to make that hike.

We went in early fall, when the leaves of the aspen trees are just beginning to turn vibrant yellow. If you think you've seen leaves turn, you've never seen aspen leaves turn. And you ought to before you die because I promise you, it will be the most beautiful thing you will ever witness.

Crater Lake has a glassy surface. It reflects back the Maroon Bell mountains perfectly. You'd almost think it was made of glass if the breeze didn't pick up and create ripples across the surface.

We went early. Like, before the sun rose, early. I'm not much of an early bird but it was a special day and a special gift, so I forced myself up. Besides, once up, I'm up. I usually crash in the afternoon but that's another tangent. The hike was what you'd expect. Well…if you've ever been hiking. The hike isn't the important part, though.

The sun was just beginning to rise as we got to the end of the trail. My dad led me out, next to the lake and we watched the sun rise in the only kind of quiet you'd hear in the forest or on a mountain, where there aren't many humans or man-made structures. It was already beautiful. I would occasionally look down into the lake and watch the sky change through the surface.

I was looking down again when the sun hit the aspen leaves at just the right angle and… [ _sucks in a breath_ ] breath-taking. [ _pause_ ] Golden. That's how I would describe it: golden. I said 'yellow' before because that's probably the best descriptor for the color of the aspen leaves but…yellow is too simple a descriptor. They're a beautiful, soft golden, like a ray of sun made physical. With the actual sun's rays shining on them, it lit up the trees and the lake. It was blinding but not painful.

As counterintuitive as it sounds, I closed my eyes, then. Just to take it all in—keeping the image of the golden trees, reflected back in the lake in my mind's eye. And when I opened my eyes again I was standing in a small canoe, on Crater Lake. And…I can't stress this enough, everything around us had disappeared. I could still see the golden leaves of the trees and the purple of the mountains in the reflection of the lake, but… [ _exhales sharply_ ] none of it was actually there. The lake, and sky, went on for _miles_ in every direction.

My Dad was with me, but he was laying against one of the benches, unconscious. Of course, on instinct, I turned to wake him. He seemed confused, almost like he'd passed out unexpectedly. When he fully came to, his eyes darted around in confusion. I could see realization dawn on him. And then panic filled his eyes. He sat up with such force I thought we might take a spill into the water but the boat didn't even move.

That's when I realized that the lake had been totally and completely still this whole time, like we were sitting on a mirror.

My father hugged me, then. You know how you'll read in books about bone-crushing hugs, or hugs that cut off someone's breathing? I never really understood it because any hugs I'd had seemed normal. Nice, of course, as hugs are, but normal. [ _pause_ ] The hug my dad gave me felt like that—it was painful and I literally couldn't breathe.

He started apologizing. I couldn't quite understand it—it was panicked and garbled. I grew up learning Mandarin and English. He was speaking Mandarin but I could barely make out what he was saying. Something about my mother and her family, I think he mentioned something about the vast, or vastness? Again, I…didn't quite know what was going on at the time so remembering is also difficult. Well… _was_ difficult I should say. His comments make more sense to me now. But…that's also a bit of a tangent.

My dad pulled away, then, but he squeezed my shoulders to the point of pain. He was crying. Tears streaked his face and poured from his eyes. He apologized again, clearer this time. He met my eyes with a sense of urgency that filled me with dread and panic, too. I tried to ask him what exactly was going on but he said there wasn't enough time to explain everything.

I tried, in vein, to ask him again anyway, when my mom appeared. [ _long pause_ ] I had only ever seen photos of my mom, of their wedding, of when she'd first had me. My dad always said they had planned to move to the States but my mom had died before they could. So my dad took me when he'd finally made enough to do so.

I thought maybe I was seeing a ghost. Clearly, my mind had rationalized at the time, I was experiencing some kind of vivid hallucination. Adding a ghost into the mixture wasn't that big of a deal. Though, I don't know of ghosts who age. Because my mom looked like my mom but she was clearly older than in any of the photos I had seen her in. She looked like my dad's age.

She was also floating. Well, standing on the water, anyway, like it was frozen. Maybe it was. Maybe it had turned into ice in that moment. Whatever that moment was.

When I looked up at her, my dad stiffened like he knew. A weird, serene calmness overtook him then. His tears ceased. His hands slipped off my shoulders and he gently wiped away his tears. He pulled me into another hug, kissed my cheek as he pulled away, told me he loved me—for the last time—and turned to face her.

I was frozen. I couldn't tell if it was of my own volition or someone else's. All I could do was watch as my dad stepped out of the canoe and onto the surface of the lake, which rippled, something that hadn't happened when my mom moved over it.

I think the strangest thing, though, was how…happy my dad actually seemed. Compared to how panicked he was before, anyway. I thought, for a long time, my dad hadn't loved my mom. Whenever he talked about her, it was tinged with sadness—grief—and an anxiety I could never pinpoint. Well, not until recently but that's not why I'm here. Anyway, I thought, maybe he did love her, at a time, but that had faded after a while. I thought maybe the anxiety was related to guilt over falling out of love with her.

Watching him greet her, I could tell just how much he still deeply, _deeply_ loved her. She welcomed him with a smile and open arms. Her smile had an odd edge to it—nothing…bad, I don't think. Just a strange edge that didn't quite fit.

They embraced. I don't know how long I watched them just hold each other. Then my mom looked up at me and smiled warmly. A large gust of wind picked up. I heard the nonexistent leaves rustle and instinctively blinked. When the wind died down and I opened my eyes again, they were gone.

I could move again. And I immediately went to the edge of the canoe, toward where my dad had stepped off. I looked down into the lake, somehow thinking they'd fallen in even if there were no ripples across the lake to confirm it, and no splash I had heard, but all I could see was my reflection on the completely still surface, despite the gust of wind. I reached forward slowly, wondering if I touched it, if it would create a ripple.

Before I could, however, someone's voice startled me out of whatever reverie I'd fallen into, staring into that lake. I looked up and over to my right, where I'd heard the voice come from and suddenly…I was back where I'd been before I'd closed my eyes. The sun was high. [ _pause_ ] I'd been standing there for _six hours_. I'm sure it would've been longer had other hikers not reported me to the park rangers.

My dad was gone. I filed a missing person's report but had a feeling he wasn't going to return. [ _pause_ ] And I was right.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

[ _softly_ ] And that's all?

MICHELLE

[ _pause_ ] For now.

So, um…would you mind me asking exactly how this works? Th-the process of, y'know, taking these recordings…and then what? What happens to them?

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

Oh, well, yes. So, I'm majoring in Parapsychology with a focus on archiving, so as part of getting my degree, I'm required to take statements from, well, from people like you. I record them and, since—okay, I'm sorry. I'm explaining this really badly.

UCSF, like many big universities that offer Parapsychology degrees across the US, are partnered with the Usher Foundation. What that means is, anyone—students, faculty, staff, community members—can come in and make a statement. Either write it down or record it, like we're doing right now. After the statement is taken, we send it off to the Usher Foundation for them to research and archive. If they want to look into a statement, depending on resources and the like, they can contact us and have faculty or students do the research for them on-site. Does all that make sense?

MICHELLE

Yes. That's actually fascinating. So, when we're done here…do you personally package it and send it to the Usher Foundation?

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

Oh, no, the uh…I'll take it to whichever student is at the Help Desk and they'll send it off. It's part of their job. They package it and address it and everything. We have special envelopes, paid for by the Usher Foundation, so it costs the university nothing to send statements.

MICHELLE

Oh, well, thank you for indulging me. [ _pause_ ] I can tell you have a question for me now.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

…yeah. Well, you talked about the meaning of life and all that at the beginning. A-and you also mentioned the ocean? But, and forgive me if I missed it, I'm not quite sure where that all fits into your statement? You said it would provide context? Chekhov's gun and all that.

MICHELLE

[ _chuckles_ ] Right. That. Yes, I brought it up because I noticed how…uncomfortable it made you in class. I can tell you're the type who regularly falls into existential crises. Specifically, the "what is my purpose in the world," "I am but a mere speck in this vast universe, why do I matter," "why does what I do matter," "what's it all for," et cetera, et cetera, kind.

STUDENT INTERVIEWER

[ _nervous_ ] Y-you can't _possibly_ know—

MICHELLE

Oh, but I do. I look into your eyes and your deepest, darkest fear reveals itself to me, like someone surfacing for air. You're so afraid of being lost to the vastness of the universe. Afraid it is far too big for your mind to comprehend. Afraid it will swallow you whole and leave nothing of you behind. That you will be stuck in an endless void. Forgotten.

[STUDENT INTERVIEWER SUCKS IN A SHARP BREATH]

Do you like riddles?

INTERVIEWER

_What?_

MICHELLE

I have a favorite, myself. I loved riddles when I was younger. And there's one that's always stuck with me. Sometimes, at random, it will just float through my head. It's not really a question. It's more of a statement, but it's the only clue to finding the answer. Would you like to hear it?

[LABORED BREATHING CAN BE HEARD]

Water, water, everywhere.

[STUDENT INTERVIEWER GASPS WHICH CUTS OFF]

And not a drop to drink.

[SOUND OF CLOTHES SHIFTING, FOOTSTEPS ON THE FLOOR, FOLLOWED BY LOW TAPPING NOISES]

[ _whispered_ ] _Bang._

Statement ends.

[TAPE CLICKS OFF]

**Author's Note:**

> g-get it?? _dive_ right in
> 
> anyway, hopefully more stuff to come. i find i quite like writing from the perspective of an avatar. also yes, partially inspired by mr. blue sky's "enjoy sky blue" line alkjdlkjf (legit i've always loved that riddle, or whatever it's called)
> 
> ucsf stands for university of california, san francisco. the u.s. is too fucking huge for someone to travel all the way d.c. to make a statement. so i made up a headcanon abt how the eye might operate
> 
> reblog on tumblr [here](https://awayofunderstandingit.tumblr.com/post/628312749220495360/one-shot-chekhovs-gun-tma-statement)
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed! Comments are much appreciated ^_^
> 
> Thank you for reading,  
> TheBrightestNight


End file.
